SAFETY IN NUMBERS II 



when there is a screamino' scent and the usual lot have settled 

 into their usual places. Mr. Barclay has done a lot of big- 

 game shooting, and has made his mark as a pigeon shot : 

 he is a welcome gun at a big shoot, as in addition to being a 

 good shot he is as genial a companion as one could possibly 

 meet with in camp or at covert side. 



" How did you all get through that thick hedge, my dear friends ? " I left 

 you kicking your heels into your panting steeds, and you didn't seem to 

 have a jump left between you, and sought an outlet elsewhere, by gap and 

 gate, and didn't we hammer-and-tongs it, Mr. Oldham, down to the lodge 

 gates at Copped Hall ? Another check, by all that's tenacious ! Time to 

 here twenty minutes, Mrs. Price's horse obstinately refusing the double ; 

 in another five minutes we were in the Warren, and a man was under his 

 horse as he turned turtle over some rails that led into the Warren, and it 

 took five men to extricate him. From here the hounds ran clear away 

 from the whole field, racing their fox through the Forest to ground in the 

 main earths at Luffmans. 



Beech Hill Park— which is the way ? queried the Master of a forest- 

 born sportsman. Clattering through the stable yard we met the owner, 

 faultlessly got up, not a speck of mud on his boots. From Obelisk Wood 

 we trusted to the guidance of Squire Colvin for the short cut to his own 

 covert, and a certain find. Safety in numbers, you say, or surely Bailey 

 would have killed one of the Five Foxes in Galley Hills. Were you one of 

 the lucky few who really got away on terms with hounds when they finally 

 left Galley Hills, and running through Deer Park, via Nasing Coppice, lost 

 their fox near Orange Wood ? Or were you one of the many unfortunates, 

 like myself, who had to ride a ding-dong race with hounds always a field or 

 two to the good until they divided near Nasing Coppice ? Jumping out of 

 Epping Long Green, the Master was nearly pulled off his horse, but it was 

 the shortest cut to hounds in and out of that belt of trees. We all voted 

 this a jolly gallop, and all save the huntsman were glad that a fox, who 

 knew such a good fine of country, escaped. Mr. Waters, who had ridden 

 every yard of the line, viewed the fox not a field ahead when hounds 

 threw up. 



But a little tit-bit, a sparkling bonne bouche, was in reserve for those— and 

 their name is not legion — who never go home before hounds. Twenty 

 minutes by the watch and a kill ! The Mate tried to discount it riding 

 home ; said he could have thvoim a stone as far as hounds van. But when hounds 

 are out of sight, piercing their way through thick thorn fences which run 

 up the slopes of grassy hills, you want to be very close to them to know 

 where they have been. Why, the find in the grey twilight in the last little 

 spinney on the side of the hill at the rear of the straggling cottages of 

 Nasing was well worth a sovereign. Which side would he break ? Of 

 course, we went the wrong one, and hounds were tearing along over the 

 grass, but swinging left-handed to the Common, and parallel with the road, 

 down which we all clattered. Running with more dash and devilry than 

 they had shown all day, you knew hounds meant killing. Close at their fox, 

 they turned back with him at the Common, and they nearly nabbed him by 

 the side of the brook. 



And now came the cveam of the thing, my boy! Over the brook at all 

 hazards you were bound to go. The Master was under his horse in the 

 deep, watery gully that led into it, but with ready help around him, and 

 better still, clear of his horse, as Mr. Willie Sewell, sliding his clever 



